admitted his identity.
‘May we come in?’
He held open the door. He was prepared to co-operate; it would be foolish not to. He’d do anything to get out of this hellhole that he had been dropped into. Anything? That remained to be seen.
‘Look,’ he said to the constables as soon as they’d taken off their hats and seated themselves side by side on the pale-blue leather settee that he and Rachel hadpurchased just before he’d taken off for Paris. Paris! His favourite city! Would he ever be able to go there again? ‘Look,’ he said again, extending his hand, appealing to them, ‘this whole business has got out of proportion.’
It was not for them to make any judgement on that; a complaint had been made against him by a minor, of a serious nature. She was not a minor now, he pointed out. But she was then, they retaliated. By a week, he countered futilely, but all this was just by way of being a red herring, of playing for time that was not available.
‘Can I just say that I did not attempt to seduce her!’
‘She claims that you did.’
‘She bloody well made advances to me.’
The policewoman looked at him stonily. Did he expect her to believe that? That a fifteen-year-old pupil would try to seduce her forty-four-year-old teacher who was already sporting a number of grey hairs and who was carrying more weight than when he was in his prime?
‘I’m not the first poor sod to be dumped in the shit like this,’ he told them. ‘It’s happened before. You must read the papers?’ Careful now, Cormac . He could hear Rachel’s voice in his ear. Don’t say anything that will antagonise them further .
They were perfectly polite, he couldn’t complain aboutthat. They asked him to come down to the station with them and make a statement.
‘You’ll get your chance to put your side of the story then,’ said the male constable.
‘So it’ll be my word against hers?’
‘Unless there are witnesses,’ said the woman.
‘Witnesses?’
‘Other pupils. Teachers.’
He thought of Alec McCaffy, the teacher who had accompanied him on the school trip to Paris, standing in his felt slippers and paisley dressing gown in the rain outside their hotel watching him hand Clarinda Bain out of a taxi, and his spirit fell even lower. Rachel was right when she told him he could be such a fool.
‘I’ll take my own car if you don’t mind,’ he said.
But they did mind. They preferred him to come in theirs.
‘So that I won’t do a bunk?’
They smiled non-committally.
They escorted him down his garden path, one going out in front, the other bringing up the rear. He felt as if he were being frogmarched. A dangerous criminal, a sex maniac, who might leap out of the bushes at any young girl who happened to be passing. He did not dare look to right or left for fearof encountering a neighbouring eye. The presence of the well-marked police car in the street would not have gone unnoticed.
After he’d made his statement he half expected to be charged but they said he might go. They would be continuing their investigations, interviewing witnesses, before deciding if there was a case to answer. There would be a case, he didn’t doubt that. The Bains, mother and daughter, would stretch their considerable imaginations to the limit. They wanted his blood. How was it that he used to extol the imagination at every opportunity? Use your imagination! he would tell his classes. Don’t just sit there like turnip heads! Some of them had listened.
He went for a walk in the Botanic Garden. He badly needed air and room to breathe. There was space here in this quiet oasis with its wide views of the city skyline. At this time of the morning few people were about except for the occasional mother with a pushchair. The day was fresh but mild and the colours were just beginning to take on the first tinges of autumn. A swirl of wind ruffled the dry leaves, sending a bright scatter across the grass in front of him. For a moment, his
‘May we come in?’
He held open the door. He was prepared to co-operate; it would be foolish not to. He’d do anything to get out of this hellhole that he had been dropped into. Anything? That remained to be seen.
‘Look,’ he said to the constables as soon as they’d taken off their hats and seated themselves side by side on the pale-blue leather settee that he and Rachel hadpurchased just before he’d taken off for Paris. Paris! His favourite city! Would he ever be able to go there again? ‘Look,’ he said again, extending his hand, appealing to them, ‘this whole business has got out of proportion.’
It was not for them to make any judgement on that; a complaint had been made against him by a minor, of a serious nature. She was not a minor now, he pointed out. But she was then, they retaliated. By a week, he countered futilely, but all this was just by way of being a red herring, of playing for time that was not available.
‘Can I just say that I did not attempt to seduce her!’
‘She claims that you did.’
‘She bloody well made advances to me.’
The policewoman looked at him stonily. Did he expect her to believe that? That a fifteen-year-old pupil would try to seduce her forty-four-year-old teacher who was already sporting a number of grey hairs and who was carrying more weight than when he was in his prime?
‘I’m not the first poor sod to be dumped in the shit like this,’ he told them. ‘It’s happened before. You must read the papers?’ Careful now, Cormac . He could hear Rachel’s voice in his ear. Don’t say anything that will antagonise them further .
They were perfectly polite, he couldn’t complain aboutthat. They asked him to come down to the station with them and make a statement.
‘You’ll get your chance to put your side of the story then,’ said the male constable.
‘So it’ll be my word against hers?’
‘Unless there are witnesses,’ said the woman.
‘Witnesses?’
‘Other pupils. Teachers.’
He thought of Alec McCaffy, the teacher who had accompanied him on the school trip to Paris, standing in his felt slippers and paisley dressing gown in the rain outside their hotel watching him hand Clarinda Bain out of a taxi, and his spirit fell even lower. Rachel was right when she told him he could be such a fool.
‘I’ll take my own car if you don’t mind,’ he said.
But they did mind. They preferred him to come in theirs.
‘So that I won’t do a bunk?’
They smiled non-committally.
They escorted him down his garden path, one going out in front, the other bringing up the rear. He felt as if he were being frogmarched. A dangerous criminal, a sex maniac, who might leap out of the bushes at any young girl who happened to be passing. He did not dare look to right or left for fearof encountering a neighbouring eye. The presence of the well-marked police car in the street would not have gone unnoticed.
After he’d made his statement he half expected to be charged but they said he might go. They would be continuing their investigations, interviewing witnesses, before deciding if there was a case to answer. There would be a case, he didn’t doubt that. The Bains, mother and daughter, would stretch their considerable imaginations to the limit. They wanted his blood. How was it that he used to extol the imagination at every opportunity? Use your imagination! he would tell his classes. Don’t just sit there like turnip heads! Some of them had listened.
He went for a walk in the Botanic Garden. He badly needed air and room to breathe. There was space here in this quiet oasis with its wide views of the city skyline. At this time of the morning few people were about except for the occasional mother with a pushchair. The day was fresh but mild and the colours were just beginning to take on the first tinges of autumn. A swirl of wind ruffled the dry leaves, sending a bright scatter across the grass in front of him. For a moment, his
Similar Books
